


Deck the Holtz

by StHoltzmann



Series: Holtzy Holidays [3]
Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Gen, Holidays, Lists, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 16:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8997826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StHoltzmann/pseuds/StHoltzmann
Summary: Yes, hello, here is more holiday fluff with the Ghostbusters. (And Bennie!)It's medicinal and meant to help you cope with the holidays, much like eggnog with brandy. Also just about as nutritious.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone got cavities in their teeth yet? Sorry, I can't buy you new ones.

  1. Holtzmann has a new hobby: rocking out on air guitar to “Wizards of Winter” and everything else like it that she can find on Spotify. Her performances become more and more elaborate, culminating in Holtzmann wrapped in a rainbow of sound-responsive LEDs, leaping around the firehouse with her imaginary instrument. “Taking guitar lessons would be easier, babe,” Patty mutters, but she’s putting it all on the Ghostbusters’ official Snapchat.  
  

  2. Holtzmann walks in, holding something wrapped in sparkly red tissue paper. “OK, OK, I get why you guys were so baffled by my nutcracker a while back!”  
  
Erin and Abby: “…Oh…?”  
  
Patty is backing toward the door.  
  
“Yup! I didn’t know they were s’posed to be so…anthropomorphic.” Holtzmann reaches into the tissue paper and brandishes a fairly traditional-looking nutcracker figure, though it has no facial hair and might, possibly, be a girl. Or an agender nutcracker--there's no rule against that. “C’mon, Abby, put this filbert in there.”  
  
Abby sighs and takes the nut from Holtzmann’s fingers. Holtzmann does something and the nutcracker’s jaw opens. “It…looks normal,” she says, sounding both relieved and, faintly, disappointed.  
  
Holtzmann grins and presses a button on the nutcracker’s back.  
  
“Wait, a button? Where’s the tailcoat lev—AAAGH!” Abby leaps backward. Green light shoots out of the figure’s mouth, and with a muffled _bamf!_ , a fine mist of hazelnut explodes into the room. Abby's green turtleneck is covered in powder.  
  
“That is _not_ how nutcrackers work, Holtz!” says Erin sternly.  
  
Patty gives Erin a considering look. “You had a collection of those, didn’t you.”  
  
“Maybe,” Erin says, avoiding eye contact.  
  
Holtzmann is licking hazelnut powder off of the nutcracker, and talking to herself indistinctly. “Need a choc’la’ nu’cra’er, get a Nutella thing goin’…”  
  
“All I can say is it’s a damn good thing none of us have a treenut allergy,” Patty says, laughing.  
  
Holtzmann mumbles something.  
  
“Was that ‘I checked!’ or ‘Oh heck!’?” demands Abby. “You know what, don’t tell me. The rest of you: if you put nuts of _any_ kind—pecan, walnut, I don’t care—in Holtzmann’s stocking for tomorrow, you go get ‘em out!”  
  

  3. “What the heck is going on out there?” asks Abby, peering out the front window of the firehouse. There’s a faint _pff_ sound as a loosely packed snowball hits the window.  
  
“Huh, is that a snowball? It’s chilly, but there’s no snow even in the extended forecast.” Patty puts down her book.  
  
“…Where’s Holtzmann?” asks Erin, coming down from the kitchen with a tray of hot cocoas.  
  
Abby and Patty swear simultaneously and dash for the door.  
  
“Ohhhh, oh no.” Erin sets the tray down carefully, away from any outlets or electrical equipment, and follows them out.  
  
It is, of course, Holtzmann. She’s ridiculously clad in an enormous greatcoat, a flyer’s hat (complete with faux fur and earflaps), green leather gloves, motorcycle goggles, and a meters-long striped scarf. Only the pink tip of her nose is visible. Furthermore, she’s clutching a vintage Radio Flyer sled in her arms.  
  
Even more remarkable than Holtzmann’s appearance: the fact that snow is falling. Rapidly. Big, fat, fluffy flakes. And this snow isn’t disappearing. In fact, it’s starting to build up on the street and sidewalk in front of the firehouse.  
  
“HEYYYY! Who wants to go sledding?” she shouts at her colleagues.  
  
Patty shrugs, with a generous smile. “I do, and I bet Kevin does, but baby girl, you’re gonna need a lot more snow than that.”  
  
Before anyone else can say anything, Holtzmann waves wildly up at the roof. They follow her gaze to the roof of the firehouse, where a certain familiar figure is leaning over a very large, very Holtzmann machine.  
  
“BENNIE!” Holtz yells. “Ramp it the hell up!”  
  

  4. Holtzmann has been in the lab, muttering and not talking to anyone, for hours. Finally she emerges, waving a fistful of papers covered in physics equations over her head. “I did it!” she shouts. “I _did_ it! Doctors Fry and Evans may _think_ they did it, but their publication is a joke! This is the real deal, baby!”  
  
Worried glances. “Um…what did you do?” Erin asks cautiously.  
  
“I _proved Santa Claus!_ ”  

  5.  A thready, tinny electronic rendition of “Frosty the Snowman” is coming from Holtzmann’s lab.  
  
“What is she doing up there?” Abby says to Erin, clearly not expecting a reply.  
  
Erin gives a very fake smile. “I—I don’t know. Could be anything! You know Holtzmann.”  
  
“Wait a minute,” says Patty. “Didn’t you, Dr. Erin Gilbert, say something about giving Holtz an early Christmas present this morning?”  
  
“Um,” says Erin.  
  
Patty shakes her head, pulls on a magenta Santa hat with a luxurious black faux fir brim, and beckons Abby up from her desk. “Let’s solve this Christmassy mystery.”  
  
“Oh, uh. We should let her work,” suggests Erin feebly. She follows them nervously.  
  
“Is something cool happening?” Kevin leans back from his chair to take a look. “Ooh, must be! I love cool stuff.” And he joins the parade up the stairs.  
  
Abby eases the door open. There’s Holtzmann at the far end of the lab, back to them, dancing around with a cordless screw gun. There’s no obvious source for the mysterious sound, though it is louder now.  
  
And then she spins around, 360 degrees.  
  
“Erin.” Abby pokes Erin in the arm and whispers to her accusingly. “You gave her a snowman-shaped tie. To be exact: A light-up, carol-playing, snowman-shaped tie.”  
  
Erin gives a tiny, sheepish grin. “Uh-huh. It was on sale at the bookstore, and...”  
  
“Oh, honey.” Patty puts a hand on Erin’s shoulder. “I know you’ve been trying to give her, like, the ultimate nostalgic suburban white people Christmas, but—“  
  
“I—“ Erin begins to protest.  
  
“Shhh, baby. What I’m saying is, could we leave some of this stuff _out_?”  
  
“And can I confiscate that tie?” adds Abby.  
  
"Aw, but Abby, Patty—Look at her _faaaace_.”  
  
Patty does, as Holtzmann spins around again with her curls bouncing wildly. “Goddamn.” Patty shakes her head again. “I had a puppy like this once. That puppy was a total _imp_ , you get me? Nothing was safe around that dog. But it was too damn cute.”  
  
Abby’s eyes are huge with worry. “What happened? Did you keep it?”  
  
“What? Did we _keep_ it? Of course we did. That adorable little monster even came with me when I moved out. Finally went to the great dog run in the sky when he was a cranky old man of a dog.”  
  
They watch Holtzmann for a minute. “Ugh, fine,” says Abby. “She is the most adorable little monster.”  
  
Holtzmann dances over to them. “You guys like my new tie?” It flashes and beeps at them.  
  
Kevin startles them all when he pipes up from the back. “That’s your best invention EVER, Dr. Holtzmann! I want one too!”




**Author's Note:**

> Holtzmann refers to [_The Indisputable Existence of Santa Claus_](https://www.bookdepository.com/Indisputable-Existence-Santa-Claus-Dr-Hannah-Fry/9780857524607), by Hannah Fry, PhD, and Thomas Oléron Evans, PhD.


End file.
